Leap of Faith
by crypticnotions
Summary: It doesn't matter how many chances fate gives you if you aren't willing to take a leap of faith.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I can't keep away from the angst. I don't own them. Let me know if you see horrible grammar.

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She stood in her heavy winter coat overlooking the water. Stars were twinkling in the distance, and her chilled breath caused smoke-like tendrils to reach skyward. She couldn't resist shifting her legs back and forth a little impatiently. She was nervous. This reminded her of too many bad things. It reminded her of Donnelly surprising her and John that fateful night nearly a year ago. It also reminded her of the separation and later declaration from him. They hadn't seen each other in months.

She pushed her hands further into her pockets, fisting them in the soft fabric.

"Detective."

She wasn't startled. Even after his absence, her body was accustomed to his presence.

"John," she replied. She lifted one gloved hand from her pocket and held out a flash drive to him. "It has all the records you need. I'm surprised Harold wasn't able to obtain it otherwise."

He took it from her, placed it in his pocket then put his hands on the metal railing in front of them.

The drive had been an cinch to obtain. In fact, in terms of information the duo had requested from her or Fusco, getting the data on the new police chief ranked in the top three of easiest information to gather.

"I'm surprised too."

She looked at his silhouette. It took her just a second to register the hint of growth on his chin. The edges of his slicked back hair were even grayer than she remembered and his nose was a bright red in the cold air. He was also donned in a black trench coat.

"How's Shaw working out?"

He was silent for a moment. "She has her own demons. She's carrying around too much anger to always be effective, but she's doing a decent job."

He removed his hands and turned to her then. "Did you give any more thought to our last conversation?"

She almost winced, but sighed instead. Of course he would zero in on that. She should have known he wouldn't just let her make small talk and leave.

"I told you, John; I can't."

"Can't or won't, Joss?"

"It's really too complicated. You, me, this whole situation. Things were dicey for a moment there."

"But they worked out."

"Barely. It took you guys three months to find the machine or it to find you or whatever happened. Beside the thing with Beecher and Szymanski and H.R., Fusco and I were fielding a lot of homicides. Plus that thing with Elias." She couldn't contain the shudder at that situation.

She was lost at what to do with the man. If Harold hadn't contacted her after she circled around and around that night, she didn't know what she would have done. And then there was Terney. That only worked out because the bruising to the man's ego at being caught off guard got the best of him.

"So we should keep the separation going?"

"No, John," she paused, "I don't know."

"What are you so afraid of?"

Her eyes widened a little at that. What was she afraid of? Had he not been listening? Had he just checked out of the last year? "Everything," she answered.

She could see the sadness gathering in his eyes. "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carter." He turned from her and looked out at the still water. She could see the almost imperceptible twitch of his mouth.

She couldn't even reassure him it wasn't his fault because it was. It was his and her fault that they'd found themselves on the precipice of falling into something deeper than their work relationship.

"Have you spoken to Harold about what it would mean?"

"I don't have to run my romantic desires past Finch," he growled. His fingers tightened around the freezing metal.

She sighed again. "I did think about it, John. It's just too dangerous."

He closed his eyes. "I never thought I would be interested in anyone else after Jessica died. I definitely never thought I'd like someone who plays strictly by the rules. I've always been a rule breaker, but then, I guess wanting something more is breaking a rule."

She inhaled a deep, cold breath.

"My son," she started.

"Is an excuse. I would kill for Taylor. I would die for him."

She couldn't keep the gasp in. She knew that, had known it when he'd rescued her son from Elias, but the words added a new dynamic to the fact.

She couldn't help but think back to their conversation months ago. They'd had an awkward moment at a diner over burnt coffee shortly after the machine had rematerialized. She'd always been drawn to John. He was an attractive, infuriating, overprotective man. Her expectation of catching up after moments of playing yet another round of vigilante and cop hide and go seek took a sharp detour when John confessed that he was interested in going on a date. Of course it was John so it hadn't been that neatly executed, but it had been direct. The notion of dating John caught her so off guard that she'd stammered through excuses. She was even pulling out the excuse of giving Fusco a heart attack before scrambling out of her booth. John had retreated then. She didn't see or hear from him until yesterday. She'd unwittingly signed up for another round of this blasted game they continued to play.

"You said you were ready to move on. Just not with me, right?"

"It's not that." She reached out and grasped his clenched hand. Her gloved fingers stroked his chilled skin. "I didn't even know you were interested, John. I'd be lying to say I've never thought about it, but that's all it was. I never figured there would be any actions."

He nodded slightly. "So the separation continues then."

She could see the walls erecting around him again. John didn't like being vulnerable and he'd risked it with her twice now. She knew she was striking out. There wasn't likely to be a third time.

He shifted, ready to leave her there.

"I'm not ready," she whispered.

He kept his body turned from her and nodded quickly once again. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

She tried to ignore the chill she felt at his departure. She knew it wasn't the cold this time.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks again for so many great reviews. I apologize for taking a moment to respond to them, but my access to a computer is limited.

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Joss Carter lost herself when she ran. Being a cop she knew better, which was why when she lost herself she did so in the daytime, at the park when there were hundreds of people around. It wasn't a plan without problems, but it was better than running oblivious at night with so many more potential dangers lurking in the shadows.

During her runs, she was able to take all the things that stressed her out, put them on a checklist, and mentally work through them as she pushed her legs and lungs to their limit.

Taylor was doing well in school and was already looking at a list of colleges his guidance counselor suggested and the precinct was fielding fewer murders than usual. Even Cal's murder had seen some closure with whomever was behind H.R. throwing Terney to the wolves. Joss was sure he wasn't the sole actor of the crime, but she knew that in the end this was as close as she or Cal were going to get to justice. It had taken them over a year to get to this point.

With most of her worries removed she found that she was left with one sole item on her checklist: John Reese. And what a doozy that item was. For the past five months, since that winter day he'd said goodbye, she had pushed him further down the list so she wouldn't have to deal with the loss of him in her life. It wasn't until she met with Shaw a week ago that those feelings rushed up from the deep and crashed into her.

"He's miserable." Shaw mumbled around a mouth stuffed with French toast.

Carter had to put down her coffee and lean over the table to understand what Shaw said. "Who?" she asked.

"You know who. He's snapping at Finch. Being an all around asshole. Even Bear is having problems with his attitude."

Carter hid her frown behind her warm mug. She liked Shaw well enough. They didn't have a friendship, but they did share an alliance. They both knew what it was like being women in male dominated fields. Shaw had that stoic no-nonsense attitude that John had, but she carried it with less sly charm. It was hard for Carter not to appreciate that.

"Sam," she started.

Shaw put down the fork, swallowed her food and shook her head. "No," she interrupted, "he would have tried this asshole routine with me, but I threatened to shoot him again. He knew I would do it too."

Joss couldn't keep the smile off her face. Another reason she liked Sam Shaw.

"Look, Joss, I don't know shit about what went down between you two and I really don't care, but if you can fix this then do it. He's distracted and moody and I'm not getting killed because he couldn't keep his head in the game."

Carter frowned again. She looked down into her coffee cup, watching the liquid splash against the side of the mug. "What makes you think this has anything to do with me?"

When she didn't hear anything, Joss looked up. She was startled by the look in Sam's eyes.

"He would probably hate me for sharing this. Actually, he might shoot me if he found out, but I caught him having a nightmare. Bunch of the usual stuff operatives dream about: weapons, missions gone wrong, shootouts, but he was calling your name. Found him clutching a surveillance picture of you a couple of days later. He doesn't even do that over Blondie anymore."

Carter sat back on her side of the booth in silence. This is what scared her. It was this serious nature of John that threatened to engulf her. It was what had flashed through her mind when he said he wanted to go on a date.

John didn't casually date. He did occasionally have casual sex. She had been with him several times when he mentioned a rendezvous or a meeting or just plain came out and said he needed to release some tension.

She did casually date. That's why she said yes to Beecher. She thought they'd have a good time, enjoy some movies and dancing and dinners and maybe have some rendezvouses of their own.

She didn't like getting serious. Her relationship with her husband had changed the moment she said "I do." She went from having a fun, loving time to being suffocated in her relationship, consumed in the tide of his feelings of jealousy and anger. She lost herself and had to swim extra hard to get her head above water. She was grateful for Taylor, but all she had left of that tumultuous time was bitter feelings and trust issues.

Mentally she knew John wasn't like her husband at all. John liked the way she did things. He relied on her research and didn't second-guess her every step, but she also felt that he could have tinge of jealousy and possibly overwhelm her with his own feelings. John was no longer the broken man he imagined he was, but perception was reality and just like her trust issues got in the way, his need to clutch too firmly at things could get in the way too.

Still, wasn't he playing against type? Wasn't he the one who severed ties to give her room to swim at her own pace?

Shaw grabbed the file sitting on the scuffed wooden table and looked Joss in the eye. "Figure it out."

Carter closed her eyes and Shaw did her stealth operative ghosting thing, leaving only a sticky plate and a tinkling doorbell in her wake.

Carter pushed harder. Her lungs were grasping at all available air that reached them. Her arms pumped harder. Her legs screamed in protest. Her ears drowned out the music blasting in them. She ran faster, passing blurs of people milling about the park. Purples and browns and greens whizzed by in vivid colors highlighted by the sun. The smell of fresh cut grass rushed through her nose. Her feet left small indentations of her thoughts on every step of pavement she crossed.

Would she take a chance? Could she take a chance? Was Shaw right? Hell, would John even see her if she reached out to him?

Exhaustion was setting in. Her body was resisting her efforts to keep up the pace. She had to stop now or she was going to wake up to a First Responder gazing down at her. And even then she would have been all right if she could mark that one thing off her checklist.

John Reese. John fucking Reese. She should have known that pushing him down on the list was just going to make it more difficult for her to confront when the time came.

She stopped, taking a sip from the water bottle carrier she ran with. Sweat poured down her face and she leaned over trying to catch her breath.

_"Figure it out."_

Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her burner phone. Her breathing was still labored. Her mind was still racing.

"Hello?"

Her body froze. Even after all this time he answered her.

_"Figure it out."_

He deserved an answer. Heck, she deserved an answer.

"John, I'm ready."

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AN: One chapter to go. :)


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I haven't gotten back to everyone for the great reviews on chapter two. I apologize for that.

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She appreciated that he picked a public spot for their conversation. It was clearly some ritzy hotel property that Finch owned. The place was full of décor adorned in glass and silver and pearls. However it went tonight, neither of them would feel any uneasiness in their own personal space and she was grateful for that.

Still, it was hard to ignore the room key sitting beside his untouched shot of whiskey. He sat back in an oversized orange lounge chair wearing a classic black suit with his crisp, white shirt unbuttoned at the top, his lean fingers planted on his knee. She couldn't deny how handsome he looked. Or how tired. Maybe it was from a recent case, but the conversation she'd had with Shaw buzzed in the back of her head. He looked soul weary and it bothered her that she might be the cause.

"Thank you for meeting with me," she said. She tried not to fiddle with the sweating beer on the table in front of her.

His eyes searched her face, but he remained silent.

She sighed. There would be no give or take, or any of their usual banter. He was going to leave it all to her. That was only fair, but she was too nervous to do this on her own.

"John," she started. She watched his fingers flex over his knee.

"I'm sorry," she continued weakly.

Nothing.

She sighed and gulped the beer down in two swallows. Beer was hardly strong enough. She wondered if he would mind if she reached over and finished his drink off too.

She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm sorry about waiting so long to contact you and I appreciate you giving me time to work out my feelings."

He inclined his head. _Good_, she thought. At least he was listening.

She looked down at her lap. "I'm not good at this sort of thing. Of course I like you. I've always liked you, but frankly you scare me."

She looked up to see his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and worry. He leaned forward.

"Carter," he paused, "Joss, I would never hurt you. Don't you know that?"

"Not physically and never on purpose, but we both have so many hurts. You with Jessica and me with my husband." She didn't miss the way he winced at the mention of Jessica.

A lot of things he knew Shaw had spilled the beans on (both Finch and Reese had been furious at her leaking the information about the machine out to Carter and Fusco), but he didn't know how much Shaw had mentioned about his pass loss love.

"Can we even make it work?" she asked.

"Do you want to try?" he responded.

She ignored his question. "Why now?"

"We aren't getting younger, Carter." A hint of his usual smirk peeked through. "It might be best to work something out before one of us gets killed."

It was her turn to wince. He was right. Months after the Elias ordeal, Finch had told her that her number had shown up again. They weren't able to process it because of the machine's disappearance, but even now she doesn't know how she missed being killed by H.R. when they'd done a thorough job of eliminating both Cal and Bill with minimal problems.

"Yeah," she breathed out. This was still confusing as hell.

He leaned forward and fingered his card key. She eyed the action then looked up at him. Was he implying what she thought?

"We can be friends," he stated. They were already friends, even through the separation. She accurately read what he left off.

"You want to do that?" She raised an eyebrow.

He didn't answer her question. "My room is on the fourth floor."

"So you want to just have sex?"

His face took on fierceness yet his voice was only a decibel above his normal whisper. "I'm taking what you want to offer, right? You've been eyeing the card since you got here."

His words shook her and she felt a bit selfish and foolish. John had specifically mentioned dating and now he was willing to settle for whatever she would share with him. How did they get in this deep?

"I think having sex with you would be a mistake."

His face deflated. He'd tried to remain in that neutral stoic zone he'd perfected for news he deemed bad, but he failed.

"I don't think I would want to stop," she finished.

He looked at her sharply. His lips quirked upward. She could see the joke perched on the tip of his tongue.

"You think it would be that good?"

"Don't you?" she playfully poked back.

"Maybe."

"Maybe? Really?" It felt good to get into the rhythm of their usual banter.

"Who knows?" he shrugged. He was feigning nonchalance.

They sat back in their massive chairs and stared at each other. Was there really any choice for her? She let her eyes roam over him again. The added gray made him look even more dignified. The man was too delicious. It didn't hurt that he taking the time to scan from her lean legs to the bit of cleavage showing in her form fitting red dress.

"John, I want that date."

He gave her a full smirk. "Why should I give you a date, Detective?"

"Because I want you to feed me expensive food before I fuck you senseless."

He swallowed. She knew her face had taken on a predatory nature that even he couldn't rival.

"You can be so saucy, Joss," he rasped.

"You wouldn't like me otherwise."

"True. I like your spunk."

She laughed then. It startled them both. Neither of them had laughed much lately.

She sobered. "I was scared. I'm still scared."

"It's okay. It took me a long time to even realize I was ready to move on. I couldn't have done it without you. I don't expect you to get over everything you've experienced. I just want a chance."

"How did you even know I liked you?"

"Shaw."

Carter rolled her eyes. Sam was just a little too nosy for her own good.

"That woman," she joked.

"I'm pretty sure Harold has been devising her downfall since she tried to hook him up with a former tech client of ours."

"Oh, I wouldn't mess around with Harold."

"Neither would I. He can be devious when necessary."

"Don't I know it." She reached forward and grasped the hand he'd placed on the small table between them. "Were you going to drink that?" She nodded to his still untouched drink.

"Only if you'd said no."

"John," she began.

He shook his head. "It was going to be my only one. I'm glad I didn't need it." He gripped her hand tighter.

"So this turned out okay?"

"Yeah," he replied.


End file.
